Zutara Week 2012
by DaniDiamondz
Summary: A series of 7 short stories, 1 a day, for Zutara Week 2012. Enjoy :D
1. Serendipity

**Day 1:** Serendipity

They camp for the night in a cave not too far from the small village, a temporary shelter until the rain stops. The flying bison can barely fit inside the small opening, retreating to the back of the shelter before shaking out the wetness in his fur. The pair of benders follow him, slipping their drenched, black hoods off their heads. Before long, there's a fire going, painted shadows dancing on the wall of the cave, the crackling noise overpowering the pooling of water at the mouth of the cave. Katara kneels next to Appa, her long, slender fingers smoothing his fur as she searches for remnants of rainwater. She smiles when he growls in gratitude, but it's artificial - hollow and empty inside. The outing had not gone as she'd hoped - she couldn't bring herself to end him, her fingers had just stopped working. _What was wrong with her?_ She curses herself inwardly, sweat forming at her temples and her hands clenching into a fist.

"Katara," the voice shakes her out of her thoughts and she glances back to see Zuko standing behind her, his golden eyes softly trained on hers. "You should get some rest. It's been a long day," he adds, beckoning her. She scoffs, his eyes widening as she turns back to Appa.

"Can't you see that I'm a little busy here?" _Besides_, she adds softly, _I can't sleep, can barely close my eyes._ Zuko is quiet as he studies her, the words being spewed out in a current of emotion. He sees the determination in her jaw, the power in the words but he isn't fooled so easily - her eyes are tired and her clenched fists are shaking. When she turns around, he takes a deep breath in...and tries again.

"Are you okay? Maybe you should get-" She cuts him off, whirling up and around to her feet. Her hands are at her side, and her voice is tight, forceful.

"I don't need any rest." She sighs heavily, takes a step back when she realizes she's standing close - too close - to Zuko. "And yes," she adds quickly, "I'm fine." She wants to get back to work, to not think about that day, or Zuko, or her mother, or anything at all. As she attempts to take another step back, Appa nudges her forward and her hands fly out in front of herself to catch her balance. Instead, Zuko catches her, one hand enclosed over her wrist, the other on her waist. Her hair falls briefly in front of her eyes and when she looks up, she finds herself inches from his face. His eyes are sad, a soft golden-brown and she almost wants to comfort him. She quickly realizes that it's pity in his eyes, for her, and frustration and anger boil in her blood. The events of the day come back to her and she's a loose cannon.

"I couldn't do it! I couldn't...end him. He was right there, in front of me, and he admitted it. I should've killed him, but I just stood there! My mother died because of him, and he just...got away. I should've made him pay...but I didn't." She stops herself, swallows harshly as she pulls away from Zuko. "I couldn't," she whispers, her voice low.

"You did the right thing." His voice is sorrowful, and he reaches out to her, arms wide. Her eyes meet his questioningly, tears pooling at the corners as she pulls away.

"Did I?" She shakes her head, turns her back to him. Shaking hands come up to wipe the tears from her eyes. "How?" Zuko places a hand tentatively on her arm, his touch reassuring.

"You didn't stoop to his level." When Katara turns her head slightly to the side, he adds, "It may not seem this way now, but you were...are a better person because of it." When she turns to look at him this time, her cheeks are stained with tears, and she's unashamed. His heart breaks for her and at the same time he reaches out to draw her close, she throws herself into his arms, her hands wrapping around his neck in a hug. Unable to control her tears, her breath hitches and her sobs rattle her body. She's cold against him, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he wraps his arms around her more tightly, places his lips gently on her forehead, and holds her close, his body a source of warmth and relief.

As the rain subsides and the fire dies, Katara finds surprisingly just what she needs.


	2. Momentous

**Day 2:** Momentous

Colourful banners from all four nations line the walls of the banquet hall. In the dome-shaped room, sparkling chandeliers hang over a large dining table prepared for a feast. Soldiers and diplomats alike sit side-by-side, fine suits pressed for such a joyous event as the celebration of the Avatar and the crowning of the new Firelord. They stand shoulder-to-shoulder, Zuko, Aang and Sokka, as they meet and greet those that approach to congratulate them. Zuko visibly grimaces when congratulators stare at his scar, or at Aang's arrow, but Aang doesn't seem to mind, shrugging absently as he elbows Zuko. "Smile," he mutters under his breath. Zuko nods in response, but doesn't follow Aang's orders. Sokka doesn't even notice the two men, his adventurous tales captivating both the guests and himself.

It's only when the girls enter, donned in dresses, shawls slung over their shoulders, do the boys stop, stare with half-open mouths at their entrancing appearances. Toph is wearing a short green dress that stops just below her knees, her hair pulled back into a sophisticated bun. Suki has an even shorter red dress, her hair in a tight ponytail. Sokka winks at her when he catches her in his peripheral vision and she giggles, her hand flying up to her cherry lips. He then makes his way over to compliment Toph as well. Beside her, Katara glances around. She's wearing a long blue dress, her brown shoulder-length hair untied, framing her face. Silver earrings dangle from her barely visible ears and her mother's necklace hangs elegantly at her throat. Zuko's eyes widen as he stares, his mouth gaping open. When she catches him, she smiles, raising one eyebrow for a split second. He smiles then, rotating his body towards her and nods. Excusing himself, he makes his way over to her.

"Wow," he begins. "You look…good," he finishes lamely. She flushes briefly, head bowed as one hand comes up to tuck her hair behind her ear. When she looks back up at him, her eyes trail up his body and her grin widens.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Firelord." He cringes ever so slightly at the title and she stifles a laugh, places a hand reassuringly on his arm. "You'll be a good leader," she adds, her voice serious and steady. "I know you will."

He nods, whispers, "thank you," before Aang comes over and puts his arm around Katara. Zuko notices her flinch, adopt a frown and turn away, but she makes no attempt to pull away and he tries to focus his attention on Aang instead. It is nearly impossible, and he finds the words blurring into unrecognizable sounds. It's only when he somehow manages to hear the words "Katara" and "marriage" in the same sentence that he pays attention, jaw tightening, heart breaking. He forces himself to spew out a, "congrats," but shoots Katara an expectant look. She gulps, flushes white-hot with guilt, looks away, without providing an explanation. Through tight lips, he adds, "well, she's shy…" This receives a boisterous laugh from Aang, who pats his shoulder amicably before walking off. When Katara tries to leave too, Zuko grabs her hand, pulls her back and whispers, "I need to talk to you – alone." Grudgingly, she follows him through the banquet door, into a secluded hallway. There, he pulls off his crown, shoves it into his pocket and paces, head bowed. She stands still, arms crossed, as she studies the tiles on the floor. Finally he stops, looks at her sideways and asks incredulously, "You're marrying him?"

"I…" she trails off, looks up at him.

"Do you love him?" he cuts her off, impatient for an answer, an explanation. She's silent face hard. Her hair's fallen in front of her eyes again but she makes no movement to brush it aside. When she doesn't respond, he rakes a hand through his unruly black hair. "Well?" He prods again, eyebrows furrowed, jaw tight.

"I care about him," she begins, biting her bottom lip.

"Katara," he says, swallowing harshly.

"It's the right thing to do," she defends confidently, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

"But what about you," he demands, eyes wild. He's standing in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place. "What about happiness, your happiness…" he trails off, sighs heavily. "…and love," he adds. "What about us?"

"Zuko…"

"I love you Katara," he says quickly, golden eyes searching her face. Yet instead of joy, he sees shock, quickly replaced with sadness. When he turns to leave, a hand on his arm stops him. Turning around, she smiles before placing her hand on his cheek and brushing her lips against his. Her kiss is soft and breathy, her lips melding against his as he wraps one hand around her waist, places the other on her cheek. Gently, his thumb caresses her cheek, jaw. When they part, she throws her arms around him, holds him tight to her as she whispers, "I'm sorry" in his ear. Her breath his warm against his suddenly cold skin and he tightens his grip on her, arms wrapped around her waist.

They spend the rest of the night together, never leaving each others' side throughout the entire banquet. When night falls, she pulls him into her room and asks, with tired eyes and a melodic voice, if he'll stay with her. So he does, at least for that one last night.


	3. Transcend

**Day 3:** Transcend

The child's laughter pierces the air as she claps her hands together happily. "Tell it again, mama. I want to hear the legend!" she demands, her honey-coloured eyes pleading with her mother.

The woman smiles, her cerulean eyes dancing with joy as she replies sweetly, "Alright, but get into bed first." Her voice is melodic and the young girl nods quickly, dashing over to her bed, throwing her red silk covers back and diving into the sheets eagerly. Once the girl has settled in, her head propped up on a fluffy pillow, her mother walks over and takes a seat at the edge of the bed. Her hand smoothing the girl's unruly auburn hair, she takes a deep breath and begins her story.

The Blue Spirit raced across the rooftops, the soft pitter-patter of his footsteps the only sound in the still night. A high-pitched scream coming from the alley below has him frowning, his eyes becoming slits behind the mask. He spies four men surrounding one lone woman and his heartbeat races. He's no spirit but he's decided a long time ago that he'll damn well do his job right. Across town, the lone woman's scream draws the attention of the Painted Lady. Beneath her wide-brimmed hat, her eyes scan the area, her ears listening close. Another shriek rings out and she glides swiftly in the direction of the alley on the billows of mist, ready for a fight, ready to heal.

In the alley, light glints off the Blue Spirit's swords, the four men falling like dominoes, one after the other. The woman cowers in the corner of a small doorway, a bleeding hand trembling as she holds it over her head. One of the men thinks themselves smart and attempts to attack the Blue Spirit from behind, but a wave of water drenches him. Whipping around, he finds himself face-to-face with the Painted Lady. The Blue Spirit glances back suddenly, expecting to see the man attacking, but is shocked instead to see the Painted Lady, her hands out in front of her in a fighting stance. He nods, as if to say, "thanks" or, "took you long enough," and she mouths, _you're welcome_, before rushing over to help the frightened woman.

Afterwards, when the men have fled, and the woman has safely returned to her home, they walk alone down the empty streets, hidden in plain sight by a cool mist. "You know," the Painted Lady begins, "you're not so bad for a thief." The Blue Spirit grins beneath his mask, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

"Well," he replies, "you're not so bad for a girl." The Painted Lady rolls her eyes below her veil, the corners of her mouth pulling up in a slight smile.

"Sprit," she corrects.

"More like woman." he says, and she nods once. After a moment of silence, he adds, "you know, we make a good team." She laughs lightly, her voice lilting.

"You mean, you like me saving your ass." He smiles, stopping to turn to her.

"Yes. I like you saving my ass." He hesitates. "Thank you."

"It's my job," she declares.

"Maybe you consider it to be your job, but you're not the Painted Lady." She raises her head defiantly, feels his gaze on her, looking under the veil covering her face, the brim of her hat.

"No..."she trails off, flushing before lifting her head to meet his gaze and adding, "But fighting the way you did back there doesn't make you the Blue Spirit either." He sighs, and slowly he reaches up to take off his mask. His hands are steady but his heart is racing, his blood rushing loudly in his ears. When the mask falls to the floor, he hears her gasp, sees her face contort in shock. Her eyes trace his face. from his short black hair, the pink flesh beneath his golden eyes, to his strong cheekbones. His jaw clenched, he tries to turn away from her, but a hand on his cheek stops him and he turns back around to see her lift her hat, remove her veil.

"Katara..." he breaths.

"Hi, Zuko," she whispers, her eyes soft, unlike her usual hateful glare. Slowly, she leans forward, places her lips on his scar. He sighs heavily, lets out a deep moan as his eyes close, his heart heavy in his chest. When his eyes open, she is gone and the sun is rising behind him.

"And although they were supposed to be sworn enemies, from that time on, once every year, they would break all the rules, transcend time and space, and work together to bring peace and justice to the people of small towns." Katara leans back, her voice fading as she notices her daughter sleeping soundly. Smiling, she places her lips on her daughter's forehead, whispering, "Goodnight," before standing to leave. A voice from behind her stops her in her tracks.

"After all this time, I think I like that story the best." She turns around slowly to see Zuko leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed against his chest as he watches her with steady gold eyes. She smiles, makes her way over to him, her footsteps soft as she places a finger to her lips. When she reaches him, he straightens and she brushes her lips against his in a soft kiss. When he leans in, she whispers, "me too," before deepening the kiss, their bodies melting together.


	4. Whimsical

**Day 4:** Whimsical

A cool wind whips through Katara's hair as she darts through the western air temples. The ground beneath her is cold against her bare feet but she doesn't stop, can't stop. He's coming for her - again. At the fountain, she pauses to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she glances around anxiously. She sighs when she realizes she's alone, bends water from the fountain and closes her eyes as the refreshing water slips down the back of her burning throat. A pale muscled arm snakes around her waist and a small squeak escapes her lips, her eyes flying open as she prepares to fight. It's only when the grip loosens and a voice, soft and warm against her ear whispers, "I got you," does she let out a sigh of relief, turning in his arms to see the face of the "it" man.

"You know, that's not exactly how you tag someone."

"No?" His face contorts in confusion, his head cocked as his eyes slide to the side, lost in memory.

Katara chuckles softly. "Have you ever even played this game?" She doesn't mean to make him feel bad but he looks at her with wide eyes, before blushing red and smiling crookedly, his hand going up to the back of his head absentmindedly.

"Well, actually..." he trails off as he tries to form some seemingly reasonable excuse about Azula and his deprived childhood. Katara shakes her head, touches his hand lightly to ease his embarrassment and their eyes meet, gold melding with blue.

"It's okay. To tag someone, you lightly tap them. The rest is running and chasing."

"Oh." He nods slowly, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Try it," Katara adds.

"Okay." The words barely leave his lips as he leans down, their lips inches apart. Slowly, he lowers his head, brushes his lips against hers gently. Katara's eyes widen, and she gasps, her lips parting to unwillingly give entrance to Zuko. Her mouth burns with the taste of him, ashes and tea, but she finds herself closing her eyes and leaning in as she wraps her arms around his neck. When they part, Zuko never looks away, his heartbeat racing, hands shaking and golden eyes drowning in the deep waters of hers.

"Zuko," Katara begins, throat dry. Her breathing is heavy and she forces herself to breathe.

"Oh-ho-ho!" The voice jolts them out of their silent trance and they pull away, stepping back. Katara half turns to see Toph, arms crossed, knees bent, standing next to her, her blank eyes staring knowingly. She gulps, waits expectantly. Opposite her, Zuko stares down at his feet, tapping agitatedly, hands clasped behind his back. He forces himself to breathe, to not look back...stare...think...remember...

"Well." Toph states, "Don't just stand there. Who is 'it'?" She asks, smiling crookedly.

"Katara," Zuko responds huskily. "She's it."

Katara smiles, shrugging. "I suppose I am." Toph laughs with delight and, taking Zuko's hand, the two leave Katara standing alone. Sighing, she lifts her hand to her lips, her mind briefly remembering the kiss. She smiles determinedly then and sets off running through the temples and past the fountains, in pursuit of Zuko.


	5. Heartstrings

**Day 5:** Heartstrings

Sunlight streams through the cracks of the shutters, early morning dew drying on the glass window as the moon retreats. Zuko lies awake, head propped up on his elbow as he glances down at the sleeping girl next to him. Slowly, carefully, he studies her, golden eyes filled with admiration as he takes in her long eyelashes, thin pink lips, slender neck, flowing brown hair. When her eyes flutter open, he sighs, heart heavy, the events of the evening returning.

_A flash of lightning - blue and quick - strikes his heart, shakes the earth._

_A scream, a cry, has him down on the ground, writhing in pain and her running toward him, oblivious of the danger that surrounds them._

_An evil smirk - his insane sister believes she's won - and a high pitched laughter bubbles up in her throat. She fires at the girl, scared and sad, and he raises his hand, tries to reach for her, take her away from here._

_But she can't see him, won't. And when the crazy one strikes again, she comes to her senses and fights with all the strength she has left; she wants to save herself, but she wants to save him more. _

_When she kneels beside him, the power-hungry girl tied down like the animal she is, she prepares her healing water, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over the edge in any given moment. Gently, she runs the water over his chest, praying all the while for him to...just...be...okay...just...be...alive._

_When he grits his teeth, eyes flying open, she lets out a cry of joy as she throws herself on him, arms wrapped around his neck. He grunts in pain from the sudden weight to his weak heart and she pulls back, tears streaming down her cheek. _

_Slowly, she holds his arm and, taking some of his weight, helps him stand. He smiles, gratitude in his eyes, before he notices the girl tied to the grate thrashing around in an attempt to free herself. She spews blue flames from her open mouth, but it is no use. Sadly, he watches, the waterbender placing her hand on his arm as she lowers her head in pity and heartache. _

_Turning to leave, he wishes silently that he can change the fate of his sister, give the waterbender a happy ending. But he can't, so instead when she stops to ask him if he's alright, he throws his arms around her, pulls her into his chest, ignoring the searing pain, and places his lips on her forehead in a light kiss. _

_When they finally get home, the beach house on Ember Island, she runs the healing water once more over his wounds. His eyebrows furrow in pain. This time, when she says his name, she takes her time, singing the sounds in a soft soothing voice. Reaching for her hand, he croaks, "you're too good to me." Her chuckle, low and unexpected, brings a smile to his lips, and he relaxes. Later, when she deems her work sufficient, she wordlessly crawls into bed with him, closing her eyes as she rests her head in the crook of his shoulder. _

"You're staring." The words break him out of his trance and he shakes his head, looks away awkwardly and ashamed.

"N-no, I'm not," he stutters quickly, lying flat on his back.

"Then what was that?" she asks playfully, rolling onto her stomach.

"That," he falters, "that was...was..." His tongue is tied in his mouth and he forces himself to think, formulate words, then say them without sounding like an idiot. Finally, he mumbles, "gazing," only to hear a hearty laugh beside him. Glancing at her, he sees her eyes sparkling, crinkled at the sides.

"Nice try," she laughs. When she's quiet, he turns on his side to see her face. Noticing him wince in pain, she reaches out to help him, eyes worried. He puts his hand out to stop her, but their fingers get caught and the next thing he knows, he's hovering over her, fingers interlaced with hers. Her eyes are wide, not out of fear but shock, and she tries to looks away. Before she can, he catches her chin, lightly tilts her face up to his. She tries to speak but the words get caught in her throat.

"Thank you, Katara," he says softly. "For saving me," he adds quickly. He removes his hand, looks away. "Not quite saving, but helping. And healing." He pauses again. "And, well, just being there for me." He shakes his head, forces himself to stop babbling. When he feels her moving beneath him, he looks back to find her smiling, lips parted. Slowly, she reaches up and cups his face with her hands.

"I should be the one thanking you. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay-" He cuts her off with a kiss, tender on her lips as his heart beats out of time. Smiling against him, she leans in and he realizes that it's definitely her pulling on his heartstrings.


	6. Faded

**Day 6:** Faded

On a day when the Ember Island beach house is empty, she finds him sitting on the floor of his parents' old room, cross-legged, his back against the bottom of the bed. A thin piece of paper lays balanced in his lap, between his knees. Even though his head is bowed, his hair covering his eyes, she's almost certain he's staring at the paper with tears in his eyes. Slowly, she makes her way over to him. He barely raises his head to acknowledge her. She sits wordlessly next to him, her body adapting the same position as him and hesitantly places her hand on his knee in a comforting motion.

He glances at her from the side of his eyes when she sighs, whispers, "I'm sorry. About losing your mother."

His jaw tightens and he turns his head away, lost in thought. "It hurts," he says, voice low and husky.

"I know, " she says simply. When he looks up at her, his golden eyes are gleaming with tears. "But," she adds," you're not alone. Not anymore."

He scoffs. "You know what I miss the most?" He asks, ignoring her comment; he doesn't believe her, not really. She shakes her head, waits expectantly for his answer.

"The good times," he says, angling his body to face her, his elbow resting on the foot of the bed, the paper held out in his hand. When she glances down at it, he holds it out to her, gestures with his free hand to take it. Slowly, her fingers brushing his, she reaches out for it - and gasps. The picture is faded but the people in it, Zuko, Azula and their parents, are vibrant with joy with love. They are sitting on a blanket, an abundance of food and wine laid out in front of them. They are smiling gleefully, Zuko's mother Ursa's head thrown back in laughter. Beside her, a young Zuko and Azula are sitting at their mother's knees. Even Firelord Ozai is smiling adoringly at his wife and children. Katara shakes her head in confusion.

"You look so happy - all of you..." She trails off. After a moment's silence, she looks up at Zuko, brows furrowed. "What happened?"

Zuko looks away, eyes downcast as he swallow harshly. "Power took hold. The struggle for power, and the hatred of other bender," he explains.

"You know," Katara begins," it's not too late to change things." Zuko lets out a low sigh, his voice tight.

"Yes, it is - my mother's gone, my sister's insane, my father's power-hungry..." His tone is harsh, angry.

"I wasn't talking about them," Katara stops him mid-sentence, her voice soft and smooth - the complete opposite of his. He looks at her questioningly, head cocked. "It may not seems this way," she continues, "but the six of us - Aang, Toph, Sokka, Suki...you and me - we're a family. Not by blood, not all of us, but because we have a common goal and because we care about one another." When his lips part, eyes widen, head jerking up, she nods. "You included."

In the moment of silence that follows, they hear Sokka's scream outside, followed by Toph and Suki's laugh. Appa growls, Aang hoots and Katara watches Zuko glance back, smile at his comrades' antics. When he looks back, she gets to her feet, offers her hand. "Why don't we make some new memories?" Slowly, his grin widens and he takes her hand, fingers intertwining perfectly.

Years later, Zuko finds another dusty, old photo. In it, a much-younger Zuko stands surrounded by his friends - his family. Toph and Sokka are on his right, making faces as they pose, show off their lack of muscles. On his left, Aang and Suki stand arm-in-arm, sweet smiles on their faces, Momo resting between their shoulders. In the middle, Zuko stands next to Katara bright smiles, eyes glowing. Much-younger Zuko's got one arm by his side, the other around her waist and she's leaning in to him, her hand on his chest.

Zuko smiles absently, remembers the day - fun, carefree and youthful, good memories in place of bad ones. Carefully, he places the picture back in the box, standing to brush the dust off himself and the small treasure chest, before placing it back in the closet. Then, he makes his way over to thank his wife for the wonderful memories she helped to create.


	7. Seasons

**Day 7:** Seasons

_Fall_

When coloured leaves fall, golden-brown maple trees sighing in the wind, the newly-crowned Firelord mopes in his palace. He lingers on the water tribes in council meetings, eyes glazed over in morning discussions of uprisings and justice. In the afternoon, he paces, footsteps echoing in the long corridors. At night, he lies awake, his breathing uneven, one hand resting on his injured chest. When he finally falls asleep, he tosses and turns, thrashing and murmuring, lost in frighteningly-real dreams.

She notices these things. Small, minor details. She's his girlfriend, after all, and she cares. Yet it seems, as the days go by, he doesn't. When she asks, pokes and prods for answers, he brushes her off, shakes his head absently. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

Mai shakes her head. "Don't lie to me." He laughs - a fake laugh, she recognizes - before leaving her standing alone in the hall. When she glances out the window, he's sitting under a tree, his fingers making whirlpools in the spring of water next to him as he gazes at it longingly.

_Winter_

When snowflakes drift gently down from the heavens and children's laughter can be heard a mile away, the young waterbender trains furiously to perfect her skill. She's ignored by most as the adults find themselves busy with her brother's new girlfriend, a Kyoshi warrior, and the Chief's son's training. A flurry of excitement develops when the latter announces that the two will be married and the young girl finds herself lost in the chaos. When conversation of her upcoming turn arises, she blocks it out, turning her thoughts elsewhere.

Not long after, she falls into a daze, her eyes downcast. Not even her boyfriend, the Avatar, can shake her from her trance. Only Toph seems to know what to do when she finds her alone in the cold, a fire in front of her. Lightly, she places her hand on her knee, taking a seat next to her. "You're an idiot for loving him."

"I know," the girl responds simply. They sit in silence for the rest of the night, Katara's eyes glued to the flames as they climb high into the sky.

_Spring_

When the flowers begin to blossom, leaves sprouting from the bare branches of trees, Mai has long since disappeared, leaving Zuko alone and miserable. He's older, tired and stressed with the responsibility of a nation on his shoulders. His left eye, scarred from the past, can barely open and he strains to see in the darkness of night as he packs wordlessly for his upcoming retreat to Ember Island. Though his element may align with the sun, he's decided he prefers the night. It's then that she, _Katara_, comes in dreams to haunt him. He hasn't seen her in years, much less hard from her or about her. But he still remembers everything - the touch of her skin as they walk hand in hand in courtyards, the feel of her lips against his as they hide in the shadow of trees. He was happy then, so long ago, and he's happy now, in his sleep, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a slight smile when he sees her face behind his eyelids, tastes her on his lips.

Halfway across the world, when green grass grows, lining the streets of the Earth kingdom, Katara hides in Toph's guest room. The sound of her friend's giggles accompanied by a deep, male laugh causes a tightening in her chest. As she takes a seat at her desk, she suppresses the pit feeling in her stomach, begins to write letters detailing the effect of the long years on her - from the disappearance of Aang, to the passing of her father, the leadership of her brother, Toph's new-found happiness and her own betrothal. She addresses them all to the Firelord, old friend, past lover, but never does she send any, tears staining the pages as she hides them away.

When Toph confronts her, eyes narrowing, she tries to reason with herself. The blind girl's final wise words, "You need closure - find him and put the past to rest," has her throwing caution to the wind and sailing out to Ember Island when night falls. She carries with her only a small pouch filled with money for a return trip and the letters she written over the years, wrapped in intertwining red and blue ribbons.

_Summer_

When heat ripples through the air, flowers in full bloom, Zuko trails long fingers on dusty furniture, remnants of the past stirring in the Ember Island beach house. He takes his time walking through the old house, empty rooms beckoning him as long-forgotten memories are brought to light. He strains his ears, believing if he listens close enough he can hear the echoes of laughter ringing out. He spots her old necklace hidden away in the corner of a room, its hanging medallion covered in sand. He picks it up gently, brushes off the outer covering as the smooth ribbon slides through his fingers effortlessly, the round center glinting in the light. He studies it, memories assaulting him. Exhausted, he slumps down into the closest chair, slumps his head in regret and heartache.

"Zuko." The soft voice jerks him up, his head whipping around to the direction of the sound. She stands in the doorway, a small pouch in her hand. She's aged since he last saw her, but her eyes still glow and he realizes she's just as beautiful, if not more.

"Katara" His raspy voice, low and familiar, has her heart racing, pulse quickening. She smiles.

"Hi." She didn't think she'd find him, not really. It was a guess - a lucky one. But it was a chance she had to take.

"Hi," he says simply, quickly, as he jumps up from his seat, rushes over and embraces her, pale arms holding her close. She leans in, wraps her arms around him and decides it was the worth the risk.

After they've parted, shared stories of the past and missed moments in their lives, they lie on the couch, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. She's long since fallen asleep while he reads her letters late into the night, pausing only to look down at the sleeping woman with a look of affection and yearning. Later, he burns them, flames hungrily licking the sides of the thin papers as it devours them completely. He closes his eyes then and, for the first time in years, sleeps soundly with her at his side.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender.

_A/N: _

_1. I think this was the most difficult story I have ever written. Yes, it was partially because I procrastinated (eek!) but still... Hope this turned out alright. _

_2. And thank you to all those who have reviewed, favourited, etc this set of stories. It's my first time writing Zutara and you have all eased my anxiety.  
So thank you again._


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